


Passing Grade

by Taeunnie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:40:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23645527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taeunnie/pseuds/Taeunnie
Summary: Wanting to pass your English class, you find that the quickest way to get the grade you want is during your professor's office hours.
Relationships: England (Hetalia)/Reader
Kudos: 15





	Passing Grade

There’s nothing worse than failing a class that you’re overconfident in. Especially when it’s ENC1101. An english class with the worst professor on campus. The only reason I took him was because everyone I knew told me that passing would be easy. No lie, he is really handsome, but he’s strict as hell. He encourages challenges to answers but the last person to challenge him was buried under papers of proof to support the correct answer. That was almost two years ago. I have one week left before this class ends and I’m way too close to a D-.  
Every time I thought I knew the answer, he's proved me wrong and I lose motivation more and more with each passing day in this class. He’s a tough professor, but in general, he’s a really nice guy. The duality of him puts me in a state of confusion...and arousal. Despite being a man, he’s very beautiful. A well toned body, a rough but chisled face, and a voice well complimented for his English accent. It makes me wonder why he became a professor. I asked him that one day before class started and he simply answered, “Just because.” After class ended today, I spoke to him for a bit. The final was coming up and I just couldn’t study by myself anymore. I asked him about his office hours and he was more than pleased to give them to me. Building 3 in room 107. Times 1:00-3:30pm. That was in the next hour. He sent me off with a kind smile on his face and I bid him farewell. Hopefully meeting him one on one would help me understand the subject more.  
I was on my way to his office at close to 1 pm. I had just gotten the most recent poetry book that we are working on from my friend since the shipment of my book was taking so long. I haven’t had the chance to look through it yet but all I know is that it contains the theme of White Peony. I didn’t even know what that meant until I Googled it during my break. Apparently, she’s a goddess who tempts men. An unusual topic to be on but not off limits. Once I’m at the door of his office, I give it three solid knocks before receiving the faint: “Come in,” from the other side. It seems that I’m actually the only one of a failing class to come here. 

“Come, take a seat.” 

He gestures towards the desk right in front of him where he leans before his own. I nodded and obediently took my seat. My bag rested on the ground next to me and I lie the book on the desk. I cross my ankles and I look up at him, only to notice the smile that has yet to disappear. 

“What is it, professor Kirkland?”  
“It’s nothing major, (y/n). It’s just that out of the whole class, you’re the first student to come see me. It makes me wonder if I’m really that intimidating.”

I look at him, stunned. All those people who told me to take this class has not only lied to me about it being easy, the professor himself thinks that he’s not intimidating. I still somehow shake my head.

“You’re not intimidating at all. At least not to me.” 

He raises an eyebrow at me and my cheeks feel hot. 

“What am I to you then?” 

I’m at a loss for words now. What do I say? He’s annoyingly right? I never intended to take his class in the first place but my friends tricked me into doing so? I cough awkwardly and clear my throat before speaking again.

“You’re just so passionate at what you do. I can see why most others would find you a bit intimidating.” 

He nodded his head. It seemed ridiculous to him, but he understood. “I see.” He grabs a book similar to mine and opens it up. 

“Now that we’ve gotten a little more comfortable with each other, turn to page 394 in your book.” 

I do so without another word coming out of my mouth. As I skim through the pages to find the right number, I capture small glimpses of the imagery that lie on a few of the pages. How exotic they were. Fearless portrayals of sex and power. However, I could only capture so much while on a task. I finally reach my assigned page and the title of it already has my heart racing. 

“The seductive assassin?”

I read aloud questionably. He nods. 

“You wouldn’t mind starting for us, would you (y/n)?” He speaks calmly. 

Almost as if he’s read this before that he isn’t phased by it one bit. I take a deep breath to collect myself before reading the short poem,

“Before attempting to kill the leader,  
She seduced him.  
The leader was hypnotized by her beautiful breast,  
But didn’t realize  
That she had a switchblade hidden under her bra.”

“Women are quite resourceful, aren’t they?”

He holds the book to his tight chest and looks at me from behind the frames of his glasses. This is where he asks me a question. 

“Knowing the weakness of men, women use their bodies first instead of their minds. But in general, they are always using their minds. This is more in the matter of perspective, don’t you think? You’re free to challenge me on this as you see fit.” 

For once, I can actually see where he’s coming from. 

“There’s not a single thing to challenge you on, but I would like to add on if you would allow me to.” He nods and signals for me to continue.  
“With women using their bodies to fulfill their ulterior motive against men, men would never notice because they would feel as though they were getting the best end of the deal.”  
“And that would be?”

He looks at me expectantly with an arched eyebrow. My chest tightens and my breathing is a bit hitched before I whisper my answer.

“Sex.” 

He smirks at me, his eyes flickering before he brings his book back into view. He reads the next poem on the page. ‘Seductive Reaper.’ He begins reading for the book but I can’t help but look at him while he reads. 

“‘Tis but a thing she does  
The female assassin  
They say poison is her weapon...maybe on occasion  
But that is a level she’s surpassing  
You see, what they fail to understand is that she doesn’t take lives for vengeance  
‘Tis but a profession  
The beautiful, tantalizing female killer  
Her male victim’s obsession  
One minute she’s a runway model...with her devilishly sinful grin.”

He looks up from the book and into my eyes as he recites the rest of the poem from memory.

“A smile so engrossingly enticing...full, red lips that cut across her face playfully  
Against her flawlessly peaceful skin  
One word for that…’killer’  
Forbidden pleasure...blissful sin  
She’s taken out big names...maybe even one or two heads of state  
To dinners she’s escorted these men...and later on left them in their deadest state  
She walks through the front door, but when leaving she can scale windows  
Agility is her forte…’man killer’ she is  
The black widow...in a red dress.”

He leans closer into me with every breath he dramatically draws for emphasis. He’s just inches away from my lips as he finishes the poem.

“You may be reading this  
Thinking you could never fall prey to her seductive tentacles  
‘Tis an argument I do not even wish to get into.”

He returns to his original position leaning against his desk, the last words slipping past his sinful, smirking lips.

“I digress.”

I whisper a curse under my breath as I hold my head down. That was way too much for me.

“So in contrast to the first poem we read, we can see that not all men are oblivious to the games women play on them, isn’t that right (y/n)?”

Fuck. Why do I suddenly feel so guilty? 

“Most men are oblivious, the lucky few aren’t. But when it comes to a beautiful woman and the promise of sex to follow suit, men will throw caution to the wind for just an hour of pleasure.” 

He pursed his lips and humed, acknowledging my reasoning.  
“The next poem please, ms. (l/n). And this time, read with a little more passion, yes?” 

I look up at him with shy eyes but I follow orders nonetheless. ‘Seduction.’ I rose from my seat, the book in my hand but with the theme in which we are in, I have to be seductive. I lower my voice and give my words more air, as to seem desperate yet controlled.

“He stripped me down naked  
Under those passionate eyes.”

I glance at him and he stares back at me with a strong gaze. A small smirk tugging at his lips. I take slow steps towards him as I read the next stanza.

“Then my body began to melt  
With hot chills on my thighs.”

I come into contact with his person. His book laid open page down on his desk as he matched his eyes with mine. His hand ghosting on the small of my back making my heart beat faster. This time I accepted it.

“My soul was devoured away  
Trapped under a lustful spell  
So powerless under his gaze-”

Before I could finish the very last line, he angles my chin to him so that I could only look at him. Softly we speak and finish the poem together.

“-A seduction game well played.”

We hesitated for a second but he made the first move and leaned into my lips, kissing me passionately. This was so wrong but it felt so right. I snaked my arms around his neck and melted deeper into the kiss. He moved me around and propped me up on his desk. After what must’ve been another minute, we broke the kiss and panted heavily. We were aroused. But being the man that he was, he still had a job to do. 

“As easy as it is to seduce a man as a woman, men can use more non verbal cues like staring intensity, the way he sits when he’s around you, or even how he behaves when you approach him.”  
“But wouldn’t you agree that women do more seductive work than men in terms of easy cues to pick up?”

He chuckles and kisses me quickly before answering in a light voice. 

“No two people of the same gender are alike. Keep that in mind, ms. (l/n).”

He moves deep kisses down my jawline to my neck, making my head slowly roll back.  
His hands move and grope around my thighs, playing on the insides of them and earning little mewls from my loose lips. It feels so sinful to have him against me but that’s what makes this even hotter. The more he squeezes my inner thighs the wetter I get. The urge to either close my legs or pleasure myself is so strong but he holds me against doing both. He bites, licks, and kisses at the same spot on my neck creating a hickey that’s just a tad too big. He moves back with a proud smile on his face as he just admires my needy, clothed form.

“I want you to strip for me (y/n). Doing so with my eyes just doesn’t satisfy me anymore.”

I comply, ridding of the outer layer of clothes I kept on. He only stopped me when I stood there in the matching pair of black lace underwear adorned with small budding roses for decor. “Recite to me a poem of temptation and patience.”

‘Shirt.’

“It clings to his chest,  
And touches his neck  
It cascades down his back and sides  
Touching every part I crave  
It even goes down near his belt  
Maybe even down into his pants.

That’s one damn lucky shirt.

I wanna be that shirt…”

He laughs and it’s quite charming. A great mixture of cute and sexy. I could listen to him laugh for days on end. 

“And why did you choose that poem?”  
“You see, it’s temptation because I want to be your shirt. I want to be the thing that clings to your body and possibly goes into your pants. However, It’s patience because here I am almost naked while you’re still fully dressed. I’m waiting on you to join me, professor Kirkland.” 

I smirk at him and that was the first time since I’ve been around this man that I’ve ever felt that I was in control. He must have sensed so as well. 

“Well (y/n), this is a side of you that I have a newfound interest in.” 

He strips of his button down shirt to reveal his muscular torso. I bit my lip as I demonstrated obvious interest in him. I can’t keep myself down any longer. I’m quite impatient and I refuse to wait any longer than I’ve been waiting. 

“Professor Kirk-”  
“Arthur, please.”  
“Arthur, I can’t wait anymore.” 

He approaches me again and kisses the bruise he created on my neck softly. He Whispers softly in my ear. 

“Tell me what you want, kitten.” 

Not only was the hot air against my skin beginning to making me sweat, the pet name made my insides melt. 

“I want you to make me cry out your name out loud. I want you to make me squirm under your touch. To play with me at my most sensitive state. I want to make you proud, Aurthur.”

I begged him in a breathless whisper. He chuckles deeply and turns me around so that I face his desk. He leans into my ear and whispers to me for the last time. 

“Bend over for me, kitten.” 

I lean over his desk slowly with an arch in my back and my ass swaying temptingly in the air. He grabs it assertively and harshly slaps my right cheek, making me squeak in surprise and jolt forward. He softly caresses the red mark he just created. His fingers slowly motion towards my black lace underwear and with the hook of his finger he pulls them off, exposing my lower half. His finger teases my entrance and precum drips from my pussy down my thighs. He hums and chuckles lowly with content as he plays with the stickiness between his middle finger and thumb. Between the arousal and the cold air hitting my erect clit, I start to shiver.

"A-arthur, p-please… I can't wait any longer."

He snaps my bra off and the flimsy lace material slides off my shoulders. His hands hungrily grope my breasts and he pulls me up from the desk. My ass comes into contact with the erection tenting up in his pants and I take the liberty to grind against it. The deep groans emerging from his throat turned me on in uncontrollable ways and his hands weren't helping either. As one hand kneeded my breast and pinched my nipple, the other snaked between my legs and teasingly stroked my slick clit. I mewled and moaned his name softly as I grinded against him more, almost begging him to fuck me. Luckily, he took the hint. He leaned me over the desk again and unbuckled his belt and the sound of the metal buckle clanking against itself made me impatient. I knew what was coming next but I want him to hurry up. He unbuttoned his pants and took off everything he had left. His hard cock rubbed against my eager pussy until finally he slid inside of me with all his length. I moaned loudly and my knees almost gave out on me. Arthur gripped my hips and deeply slammed into me. It was once but it was earth-shaking. 

"More…" I demanded

He did it once. Then twice. More and more he slammed into me and I started to shake under the intense waves of pleasure. I moaned louder and louder, almost screaming his name until my throat started to scratch. I was so close and I could feel it burning in the pits of my stomach. Arthur leaned over my weakening self, his arms coming into my field of vision and he settled into me deeper than before. He was close. He swung into me hitting my deepest part and the sound of our moans tangled together in the air, creating a bittersweet melody of lust.

"I'm...gonna...cum!"

I whimpered between fading breaths. Once. Twice. He groaned deeply in my ear as he came inside of me. The deep sexual sound of his voice and the added stimulation of his seed in me made me cum. I moaned faintly as I almost blacked out. We were too weak to move and stayed in our tired position for a while. He kissed the back of my neck softly and goosebumps grew where his warm breath hit. I smile softly.

"Passing this class will be nothing short of simple for you, my dear.


End file.
